When It Dawns
by The Imperfectionist
Summary: An expansion of "No One Mourns the Wicked." Glinda's reminiscing about the actual events of Wicked kind of interrupted her speech/meet-and-greet with the citizens of Oz. What happens when she comes back to reality, having relived them? One-shot, COMPLETE


**For those of you who were hoping this was an update on my **_**Buffy**_** fic, let me first reassure all of you that that is still very much in the works. I'm going to finish writing the entire thing before I post any more, which – I can't sugar coat it – will take a while still. The plot got waaaay too complicated for me to just write and hope that I got it perfect the first time.**

**This has been mostly finished for a while now and I only just recently realized what it was missing. So, here it is: my take on what's going on behind the scenes of "No One Mourns the Wicked" (strictly Musical-verse). **

**Thank as always to my beta Sabrina! **

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_**WHEN IT DAWNS**_

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Glinda the Good defined presentation: every hair in place under her gleaming tiara, every jeweled stitch of her gown reflected the rising sun. She was a living beacon for the citizens of Oz, soothing the worried faces that approached her, but those soon began to disappear on their own as word spread:

"_Good news! She's dead!_"

She walked the luminous streets of the Emerald City, a vision in blue and silver.

"Exactly how dead is she?" they wanted to know. Would she come back? Could they sleep peacefully, let their children out to play in the streets again?

Glinda answered as sweetly as she could. "Yes, it's true. The Wicked Witch of the West is dead."

"_Thank Goodness!_" they roared and cheered.

And Elphaba's screams still echoed in her ears.

Every moment she resisted the urge to act – to vomit until she eviscerated the memory of watching her best friend die; to crawl into her bed and never leave it; to conjure a green bubble instead of her traditional pink and fly after the Wizard's balloon, only to strangle him and drop his limp body from whatever altitude he could reach in that bizarre contraption.

Only one thing stopped her. She had made a promise to a friend.

She made her way slowly back to the square, to the very spot from which the Wizard and that Dorothy girl had left Oz, and quieted the crowd with a regal sweep of her wand before beginning her pronouncement.

"Fellow Ozians…"

It was too easy to appear heartfelt as she blathered on, leaving her mind free to appreciate the irony. Making speeches, keeping up appearances… that was her job from now on. And who better, really? It was a role she had been unknowingly preparing for her entire life. The thought made her sick now.

_Appearances_… Appearances were the reason Elphaba was dead. These sheep – "_Uninformed masses_," Elphie would have corrected her, never tolerant of derogatory Animal terms – they had demanded her life for their happiness. Today, the witch hunters mixed with the crowd, all gathering for their collective pat on the back, permission to return to normal, even a definition of what normal meant now.

Could she congratulate the murderers?

"Glinda, why does wickedness happen?" someone called out.

"That's a good question," she told them all, unable to identify the person who had asked in the first place. "One that many people find confusifying.

"Are people born Wicked? Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them? After all, she had a childhood. She had a father, who just happened to be the governor of Munchkinland. She had a mother, as so many do…"

She spun the tale for them, picturing it in her mind as she never had before: a loving but absent husband, a wife, starved for attention, and a charming traveler with a tiny green bottle of empty promises. The last pieces of Elphaba's mysterious past, the secrets of her origins, had been revealed. Glinda wondered if her friend had ever learned the truth.

It felt wrong that she should know this secret; Elphaba had always been the one with the answers. Glinda was all at once furious and sad that Elphaba couldn't tell her herself, that she was expected to offer comfort to the ones who had stolen that chance from her. She struggled to keep her face composed, her fingers shaking so hard she nearly dropped her wand. Another moment and her mask would crack.

In the blink of an eye, she conjured a bubble and climbed into it. "Well, this has been fun," she said, barely keeping her voice under control even as she willed the bubble to rise, "but as you can imagine I have much to attend to, what with the Wizard's unexpected departure, so if there are no further questions…"

"Glinda! Is it true you were her friend?"

The bubble froze in its ascent as her concentration broke. For once, Glinda was speechless.

"I…" she stammered, buying time while she thought hard. She could lie and say it was simply a rumor, although hundreds of people had seen them together at Shiz and no one could ever forget Elphaba's face…or Glinda's, for that matter. She could try to convince them that Elphaba had tricked her to earn her trust, but she knew she couldn't do that, either. Elphaba had made her promise not to clear her name. That didn't mean she had to tarnish it further.

The truth would come out, one way or another. At least this way, they could hear it from her.

"Well, I…Yes." A woman near the dais shrieked and fainted. "Well, it depends on what you mean by friend," she amended quickly, realizing the effect those words could have once they sunk in. She slowly lowered her bubble back to the ground. "I did know her. That is, our paths did cross…at school. But you must understand it was a long time ago, and we were both…very young…"

Years relived in moments.

Glinda paused, and looked out at the crowd. They hung on her every word, trusted her on a level even the Wizard had never reached. He was omniscient, omnipotent, but impersonal. They had followed him out of fear and admiration. Glinda was different – _tangible_.

Should she finish the story? Tell them the truth?

She would break her promise. But then, Elphaba had only wanted her to be safe. What if she had misjudged the citizens of Oz as much as they had her? Glinda had never grasped politics as easily as her green friend, but she did know people.

Still, the rational part of her made itself heard. Revealing the truth wouldn't bring Elphaba back, but there was something she could do to give her friend power even in death. She saw in her mind's eye the Wizard's desk in his chambers, which she inherited by right as soon as she was named the next ruler of Oz. Even now, it was covered in pending documents and laws to be approved – more restrictions on Animal rights. Elphaba was gone, but her cause was very much alive, and it needed a new champion.

And suddenly, Glinda knew exactly what to say.

"Oz is not a Paradise," she told them, much to their obvious surprise. "Our way of life has flaws, and not all of them were caused or even exposed by the Witch. You all know this." She paused, letting the words sink in. She saw more than a few anxious faces, but they were still listening.

"It won't be easy, but we can fix it. What we need is a change, a revolution, and I believe the first step is to lift the bans on Animal rights."

There were the beginnings of an uproar, but she had expected one. "I know what you must be thinking. And I know as well as you do what the Wizard told us about Animals. I just want each of you to ask yourselves if you really believe these insinuations to be true. Have any of you ever seen any of these things with your own eyes?"

She waited for almost a full minute. When no one spoke up or came forward, she demanded of them, "Who discoverated the formula for the indestructible glass from which this entire city was built? The glass you're standing on right now?"

Many people dropped their gazes to the polished green surface, as though examining it for flaws.

"The Crows!" someone finally shouted from the window of a nearby tower.

"Who grows the crops that feed this city?" Glinda asked them.

"Cows!" a few more called out.

"And who founded Shiz University, the place where the most gifted children in Oz find their wings?"

"An Owl!" said a single, small voice.

Glinda looked down at the little girl, peeking nervously around her mother's skirts, and smiled.

"We need them. This city was built on their backs as much as ours. Join me. Let go of the past, of Witches and Wizards and cages, and help me create a free Oz."

Silence filled the square, weighing heavy until a sharp sound split the air. More followed, softly at first, and then louder, faster. Glinda smiled – they were applauding.

As the applause spread through the crowd like a wave, her gaze flew over them, past the people who had swarmed the entrances when the square had filled, to the wilderness beyond the city. The sun peered over the mountains to the east.

She hoped an expression of unabashed triumph was still plastered on her face. Giving speeches was one thing, but the daunting task ahead of her – making good on them – was another. Goodness knew she could fire up a crowd with little more than a smile and a wink, particularly in favorable lighting. They would follow wherever she led, but it didn't matter if Glinda couldn't summon the nerve to take that first step. At the moment, she felt numb. If only Elphaba could be there to guide her through it.

Unwillingly, Glinda thought back to the moment that divided their destinies. _Come with me_, Elphaba had said. That day, Elphaba discovered she could fly, while Glinda learned just how firmly her feet were nailed to the ground. She wondered, not for the first time, where they would be had she chosen differently.

The memory took her over, and for once Glinda was glad of her petite stature as she tried to gracefully hide her dazed expression from the boisterous crowd. Elphaba's voice thundered through her, as powerful and strong as it had been that day: _So if you care to find me…_

Feeling possessed, Glinda wrenched her attention westward, where a distant Kiamo Ko stood out against the horizon. A shape loomed there, just above the trees. Her breath caught in her throat. The shape looked suspiciously like a cloaked figure on broom stick.

She shook her head, and looked again. The shape shifted, and she realized what it was. What she had taken for a cloak were actually massive bat wings…on furry bodies with tails – Elphaba's flying monkeys. More joined the first, and the entire flock flew took off towards the now-abandoned castle. She understood as clearly as if they had shouted it to her – they would make it their home.

The thought made her genuinely smile for the first time in days… _The Wizard had failed._ He played on their anger and jealousy and fear, seeking to spark hate in every Ozian heart he could reach. He had shaken their faith, but it was not broken. Glinda knew now what Elphaba had always known: their cause would never die as long as one fool lived to fight for it. Seeing the faces in front of her with new eyes, Glinda realized they were not alone. She saw hope and love reflected in every man, woman, and child, intact even after this nightmare.

_Unlimited…_ Was this what Elphaba felt the first time she defied gravity? She couldn't say how, but she knew their friendship would span across species and worlds, languages and lifetimes. Glinda would carry the truth of Elphaba's memory beyond the grave, and their friendship would breathe new life into this world.

The crowd began to disperse with the spring of promise in their step, and Glinda allowed herself a small sigh of relief. Gingerly, she climbed off the dais, suddenly aware of how drained she felt. She caught movement in the corner of her eye, sliding her game face back on even before she turned to look… but it was only Chistery.

He rounded the corner from behind the dais, ambling clumsily toward her with her Grimmerie tucked under one arm. She accepted the heavy tome with a nod of gratitude.

"Th-Thank you," he said, sputtering the unfamiliar words. She wondered if he actually meant "Your Welcome," but he met her gaze with a certainty she couldn't doubt. He took her hand in his, rough and furry to the touch. Feeling dim-witted, Glinda suddenly realized all that he had witnessed. He had been the Wizard's servant, privy to his scheming and plotting from the beginning. He was in the Wizard's throne room the day Elphaba had been branded Wicked. And he had been there, at Elphaba's side for every moment Glinda hadn't. She saw the grief in his eyes; he had _watched_ her melt. Speaking might be a new challenge, but he understood her perfectly.

Surprising herself, she chuckled. Elphie was nothing if not thorough: she had armed Glinda with everything she would need. The blonde adjusted the Grimmerie in one arm, two fingers clutched around her wand, but she clung to Elphaba's greatest gift with all her strength: an ally she could trust. The petite blonde and the winged monkey… they made an unlikely pair. Then again, don't the great ones always start that way? She hoped Elphaba was finally at peace, wherever she was. They could take it from here.

Chistery was studying her, something like a knowing smile playing on his impish features. Glinda looked at him curiously.

"Green," he said simply.

Puzzled, she looked down, and sure enough, her skin had a distinctly greenish tinge… but then, so did everything else. The sun hung fully in the sky, and all the glass of the emerald city – the buildings, the very _ground_ in the now-empty square – reflected its rays back into the air, phosphorescent light positively dancing on every visible surface. Her arms, her gown, even her jewelry seemed to emit an ethereal green glow. She couldn't help it. She collapsed against the edge of the stage, laughing until she cried.

**

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A/N:** I have to cite the inspiration that allowed me to finally finish this thing. I recently bought Kristin Chenoweth's memoir _Little Bit Wicked_, and I loved her before, but I never expected to enjoy her book so much. Literally the most enjoyable reading experience I've had in years (and I read _a lot_). So poignant, so funny. This little tidbit turned on a chandelier in my head and sent me leaping for my computer to finish this:

"It's the transformation of Galinda the Giddy into Glinda the Good that makes Elphaba's journey a victory instead of a defeat. Glinda takes the story into the future after Elphaba melts away, and that's how Elphaba truly defies gravity." (Kristin Chenoweth, _Little Bit Wicked_)

Even though this is only a one-shot, reviews are always appreciated. They're like crack to my muse.


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